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Ode to Astrology

Lys J., Contributor

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In this world, one where apparently we have no say on popular votes matching electoral votes,

One where racism is engulfing our schools in outrage,

One where I am scared to be who I am, whether I am on a backroad or in my backyard.

In this world, we need help.

Someone once told me: Breathe light into the altar of God, graze the lands of Mecca, worship the tides, and praise the moon. Find that life comes in blades of grass and drops of soil, piles of rain and threads of root. Find that light has life and it comes from the rusted windows and golden souls. Within threads of grass and blades of rain, with fire blazed and words black with light. Let the stars graces carry you through fields of root and drops of ocean forming the sky.

In this world, we need help.

In this world, we look to stars who have more affairs than instagram followers,

We look to stars who have more scandals than they do morals,

We look to stars,

Who simply, aren’t stars.

In this world, we need real stars.

The ones that shine even when the clouds are thick with anger and soot.

The ones that guide travelers home, and that connect people from across the world.

In this world,

We need something more than instagram likes and false hope set into false stars.

In this world,

We needs the stars to guide us all home,

Back to the altars of God,

Back to the lands of Mecca,

Back to the simplicity of wild flower fields,

And back to stars themselves.

Breathe in life,

And give yourself light

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Ode to Astrology